


Lessons in Dancing and Drinking

by bdol



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Dance Major!Yuri, Gen, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Pole Dancing, Stripping, Underage Drinking, mentions of Stéphane Lambiel, yuri's college shenanigans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-31
Updated: 2016-12-31
Packaged: 2018-09-13 19:10:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9137515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bdol/pseuds/bdol
Summary: It started out as an elective. Yuri’s adviser had suggested that he broaden his horizons; dance majors should know more than just ballet and ballroom. Pole dancing, she told him, was a good way to demonstrate a variety of skills and push him outside of his comfort zone.And then Phichit dragged him to a party.





	

**Author's Note:**

> AKA how Yuri learned to pole dance and what happens when he gets drunk
> 
> This is sort of like some back story for my piece, [ Kiss and Tell ](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8808859), but it can be read alone since it doesn't actually explain how Yuri ended up working as a stripper. Just how he learned how to pole dance. All spellings are from the official website. Yuri is like 19/20 here and Phichit is about 16/17. It takes place over the fall semester of his sophomore year and the beginning of the spring semester. I headcanon Yuri as being a dance major in college.
> 
> I'm totally in love with Stéphane Lambiel's performance to Jamie Cullum's cover of "Don't Stop the Music".
> 
> Also: underage drinking is bad and stuff
> 
> Have a safe and happy new year!

It started out as an elective. Yuri’s adviser had suggested that he broaden his horizons; dance majors should know more than just ballet and ballroom. Pole dancing, she told him, was a good way to demonstrate a variety of skills and push him outside of his comfort zone. He could do it for the Advanced Dance Practice course. She could set him up with a friend of hers that gave individual pole dancing lessons.

“You’ll need to do one hundred hours of practice and then give a performance. I’ll be your faculty sponsor, so you’ll perform for me. I’ll determine your grade at the end of the course based on feedback from your instructor and your performance at the end.”

“I…don’t know,” Yuri mumbled, his face a bright crimson.

His adviser sighed, “I know you’re anxious about it. It’ll just be you, me, and Elise. She’ll be your instructor. At the end of the semester, I’ll sign off on it. I don’t need to specify the style you practiced, just that you completed your hours and gave a performance.”

Yuri took a deep breath, “I…okay. I’ll do it.

–-

The first lesson was at 7 PM on a Thursday.

Yuri’s hands were shaking as he opened up the door to the studio, double checking the paper with the address his adviser had given him. The studio was two blocks away from the main campus; it was a two story building with a large sign that said “O’Brien Dance” above the door. He took a seat in the spacious waiting room and played with his phone.

A few minutes later, a small redheaded woman emerged from one of the studios, smiling gently when she saw Yuri.

“You must be Yuri,” she said, extending her hand, “I’m Elise O’Brien. I’m looking forward to working with you.”

Yuri shook her hand, “Yuri Katsuki. I, um, well…” he trailed off, nervously fiddling with his hands.

Elise’s eyes softened, “Follow me,” she said and led him past the main studios, down the stairs, to the basement. 

The hallway was brightly lit, and Elise led him to the first in a line of spaced out doors. She unlocked it, and opened the door, allowing Yuri to go in first. There were two poles and a stereo in the studio.

Yuri chewed his bottom lip. Maybe this was going to be too much, after all. He’d have to apologize to his adviser and–

“I was terrified my first lesson,” Elise said, cutting his train of thought short, “I was actually trembling the entire time.”

Yuri’s head snapped up, “Really?”

“Really. Now let’s do some stretches, and then we’ll run through some of the basics.”

Yuri nodded and did as she asked, slowly feeling his nerves recede.

–-

The lesson went smoothly, and Elise informed Yuri that he was a natural. They were still going to be drilling the basics for the next few lessons, but Elise told Yuri that he should start looking at music for his final performance. She wanted him to be practicing more advanced moves using the music he would perform to, suggesting that it would help make the final performance more natural.

Over the next few days, Yuri had been mulling over a few possibilities, but he wasn’t really sure what he wanted to go with. He understood that there was an element of sexuality to the performance, but he didn’t want to go overboard with it–it wasn’t something he was particularly comfortable with.

It wasn’t until later when Yuri casually mentioned over dinner to Phichit that he was having trouble deciding on the music that he finally got a song to dance to.

Upon hearing his predicament, Phichit pulled YouTube up on his phone within seconds, “Watch this, Yuri,” he said, handing his phone over, “Maybe it’ll help if you see someone skate to the music.”

It was a video from the 2011 Golden Skate Awards– Stéphane Lambiel’s performance to “Don’t Stop the Music”. Lambiel effortlessly channeled sensual romance as he glided across the ice, shaking his hips and spinning beautifully. It was really more of a dance than a skate, and Yuri felt inspired.

“This is it. This is the song I want to dance to.”

–-

The next day, when Yuri brought the music to Elise, she grinned and told him it was an excellent choice. Together, the two of them put together a routine over the course of several weeks, integrating the new moves Yuri was constantly learning. 

By the end of the semester, Yuri had a full routine. When the time came for his final performance for his adviser, he was more than ready. Elise had helped him put the whole thing together, and she was right about the fluidity that came from practicing with the music prior to the routine; everything felt natural.

His adviser came to the studio in order to evaluate him. Yuri stood patiently in between the poles, wearing a tank top and athletic shorts that allowed his thighs to grip the pole. As soon as Elise queued up the music and it began to play, Yuri danced. 

He gently rolled his shoulders and swayed around as the song began, his hips moving perfectly to the beat. As the song picked up pace, he gripped the first pole and lifted himself up until he was upside down. His right leg hooked around the pole, and he began to spin. 

Yuri twisted around the pole, supporting himself with just one hand at times, before dropping to the ground. He sashayed across the room, crossing his arms across his chest and opening them again. He bent his knees and jumped onto the second pole, holding his body parallel to the ground. 

Yuri moved fluidly with the song, channeling a gentle sensuality in addition to demonstrating immense flexibility as he did a modified Biellmann spin on the pole. He twisted about, holding onto the pole with just his thighs, lightly running his hands down his sides. As the music slowed once more, he slowly slid down the pole. 

Yuri finished the routine on his knees between the poles, his body bent back until his head almost touched the floor. He had one hand back behind his head towards the floor, and the other was reaching towards the ceiling.

His adviser and Elise clapped for him as he hauled himself back up, panting heavily. Both of them were grinning widely, delighted at the progress their student had made.

“The highest grade the university will let me give you is an A, but that was definitely a performance deserving of an A plus,” Yuri’s adviser told him.

Elise chimed in, “I know I helped you put it together, but seeing your final performance was truly wonderful. You executed it beautifully Yuri–I’m so proud.”

Yuri couldn’t help the flush that had risen to his cheeks at the compliments. He shyly rubbed the back of his neck, “Thank you.”

 

\--

 

The next time Yuri pole danced was at a party--who knew the ESL kids went so hard on the weekends? He 100% blames Phichit for goading him into doing six rounds of shots. One of the Russian foreign students named Dmitri brought a couple of bottles of vodka for everyone. Yuri only knows what happened after his eighth shot courtesy of Phichit’s camera roll.

–-

The party was already in full swing by the time Phichit and Yuri got there. Yuri wanted to be on time, but Phichit insisted they be “fashionably late”; not that Yuri really understood what he meant. 

Phichit dragged Yuri to the kitchen, where one of the Brazilian girls was pouring shots into colorful plastic shot glasses. They seemed to be vodka shots, considering that the label was in Russian; the bottle looked like it said “Russian Standard”, but Yuri wasn’t sure. He had only just started his introductory Russian class a month ago. 

Phichit was the only person who knew that he was minoring in Russian because of his massive crush on Victor Nikiforov. Yuri insisted it was so he could watch Victor’s interviews in Russian. Phichit knew it was because Yuri had been in love with Victor since he was twelve.

Phichit grabbed two shots off the kitchen counter and handed one to Yuri.

Yuri gave him a disapproving look, “Phichit, we’re both underage.”

Rilma, the Brazilian student, laughed, “Who cares? Live a little.”

“Yeah, what she said!” Phichit cheered, “Come on, Yuri! It’s _college_.”

Yuri sighed. This was a bad idea. Nonetheless, he knocked back the shot, coughing as it burned his throat. “Happy?” he asked Phichit.

Phichit threw back his own shot and pulled out his phone, dragging both Yuri and Rilma in for a selfie. “Hashtag college!”

While Phichit uploaded the picture to Instagram, Rilma handed Yuri another shot.

“I really shouldn’t. I think one is enough.”

Looking up from his phone, Phichit grinned, “Don’t tell me you’re chickening out. I can see the headline now: ‘Yuri Katsuki, Top Japanese Figure Skater, Afraid of The College Experience.”

Yuri narrowed his eyes at Phichit and downed the shot Rilma handed him. He grabbed two more off the counter and threw them back as well. Rilma cheered, and Phichit giggled. He was looking forward to seeing what drunk Yuri would get up to. 

Yuri looked out through the doorway of the kitchen at the mob of people dancing. As he scanned the room, his gaze fell upon a tall blonde guy off to the side. Blue eyes met brown, and Yuri blushed. _He kinda looks like Victor, although his hair is more golden._

Yuri ducked back towards Rilma, “Hand me two more. I’m gonna dance.”

As soon as the shots were in his hands, he downed them and made his way to the dance floor. Phichit watched Yuri stagger slightly towards a tall blonde guy.

He turned to Rilma, “Who’s that guy?”

“Dmitri Federov. He’s one of the Russian guys. He’s the one who brought the vodka.”

Phichit gave the guy a once over, wondering what Yuri saw in him before he realized. The guy looked a lot like Victor Nikiforov. Phichit aimed his camera at Yuri, “This is going to be fun.”

Drunk Yuri, Phichit learned, is absolutely shameless. Someone was going around the dance floor with shots, and Yuri had two more. Yuri was grinding up on that Dmitri guy, dropping low and working his hips like a stripper whose rent was due. This continued for about five more songs, Phichit happily snapping photos the entire time.

After the fifth song, the two broke away to get something to drink. Yuri dragged Dmitri over to the kitchen doorway where Phichit was standing.

“Phichit-hic-this is…D-Dmitri. He’s Russsssian,” Yuri slurred, grinning at Phichit.

Phichit bit his lip, trying not to laugh, “I see. Why don’t you drink some water?”

“That…that is smart. You are verrrry smart Phichit. The smartest.”

Phichit just smiled and handed them each a bottle of water. Dmitri nodded politely and thanked him. As soon as Yuri finished his water, he grabbed Dmitri by the hand and dragged him back towards the dance floor where someone was setting up a pole. 

Phichit was going to get some good blackmail material tonight.

The pole was quickly set up, and people were taking turns, trying their best to pole dance. And then it was Yuri’s turn.

Def Leppard’s “Pour Some Sugar On Me” started playing, and all eyes were on Yuri.

The first beats had Yuri unbuttoning his shirt while the crowd cheered. Yuri threw his shirt at Dmitri and winked. He swung his hips and grabbed the pole, spinning around it once before dropping back down. Running his hands down his sides, he threw his head back and moved to unbutton his pants. 

The crowd started cheering louder as Yuri shimmied out of his jeans, leaving him in nothing but his socks and a pair of very tight black boxer briefs. Yuri threw his pants at Dmitri as well, turning around to grab the pole once more.

He hauled himself up until he was hanging upside down from the pole, gripping it only with his thighs. Yuri continued to twist around the pole, his flexibility and coordination seemingly unaffected despite all the shots he’d done. Somehow, in the middle of it, Yuri had been handed a bottle of champagne; he was half drinking from it and half pouring it over his nearly naked body. It was hot.

Phichit knew Yuri had taken pole dancing for his Advanced Dance Practice class, but he hadn’t known Yuri was this good. The room seemed to get at least ten degrees hotter as Yuri moved around the pole–he was oozing sex as he danced. There wasn’t a single person in the room who wasn’t at least a little turned on by Yuri’s dancing, sexual orientation be damned.

Yuri dismounted from the pole when the song ended to thunderous applause and several wolf whistles. He smiled and bowed before staggering over towards Dmitri. He handed Dmitri the bottle of champagne while he tried to get into his pants. It took him several tries, and he simply gave up when it came to putting on his shots. 

Dmitri looked at Yuri, half naked and still dripping with champagne, and chugged the remainder of the champagne in the bottle. Someone else took the pole, and Yuri and Dmitri moved back to the middle of the dance floor to continue grinding up on one another. Yuri pushed Dmitri’s shirt over his head while they danced, and bit down his neck towards his chest, leaving behind a trail of hickeys.

Phichit almost felt guilty for taking photos, but it was too hard to resist. He didn’t think he’d ever get such good blackmail on Yuri considering Yuri’s usually demure nature.

Phichit moved back into the kitchen to get another shot or two, not seeing Yuri grab Dmitri’s hand and drag him up the stairs. Phichit, being a lightweight, was drunk after his third shot, and he moved to the dance floor, not noticing Yuri’s absence. 

Phichit lost track of time as he swayed through the throng, dancing with several people and taking selfies all along the way. After about an hour of cheerfully twirling around the dance floor, he saw his best friend again as Yuri made his way down the stairs. Yuri looked absolutely debauched with his shirt hanging open and his pants undone. Hickeys trailed down his neck and chest and past the waistband of his jeans. 

Phichit grabbed Yuri and pulled him in for a selfie, “Drunk selfie time!”

Yuri held onto Phichit and giggled, “Phichit…guess what? I slept with Victor Nikiforov.”

Phichit laughed out loud, “Oh my god, you’re like sooo drunk. I mean, me toooo, but woooow.”

The two made their way towards the front door, holding onto one another and laughing. Rilma high fived each of them when they passed her, hollering that they should come to the next party. 

–-

The next morning, Yuri woke up in Phichit’s bed with a killer headache and equally sore hips. Phichit was hanging onto him like a koala and drooling, and they were both in their clothes from the day before. Yuri carefully disengaged himself from his best friend’s grip, groaning as he made his way towards the bathroom in pursuit of some ibuprofen. 

When he looked in the bathroom mirror, he shrieked.

Yuri had absolutely no idea how, but he was _covered_ in hickeys. 

Phichit walked into the bathroom at that moment, rubbing his eyes, “Keep it down, Yuri. My head is pounding.”

“P-P-Phichit…I…what…how…” Yuri trailed off, his mouth opening and closing like a fish.

“Mmmmm,” Phichit mumbled, “Coffee first.”

Phichit shuffled over to the coffee pot and fired it up. Yuri tried again to ask him what happened, but was shushed. 

After coffee was made, the two sat down at the table. Phichit took a long sip of his–extra cream and sugar–and pulled out his phone. He opened up his camera roll and handed it over to Yuri.

Yuri lightly sipped his coffee–cream and a touch of sugar–then promptly spit it out as he swiped through Phichit’s camera roll. Yuri acted just like his father when drunk and went completely off the rails at the party.

“D-Did I really dance up on that guy? Dmitri?”

Phichit nodded and took another sip of his coffee.

“Oh my god. I _stripped_? AND _POLE DANCED_?!” 

Phichit nodded once more, hiding a smile behind his mug, “You also disappeared for a bit with him while I was dancing. When you came back, you looked like you do now and told me that you slept with Victor Nikiforov.”

Yuri dropped his head onto the table and groaned. He never wanted to drink again. Not only had he completely embarrassed himself, but Celestino was going to kill them for showing up to practice hungover.

When he checked his wallet later, he saw that he at least used the condom that Phichit had stashed in there at the beginning of the year.

**Author's Note:**

> Phichit just wanted Yuri to have a little fun and loosen up. And I fully believe that Phichit is a total lightweight, especially since he's still a teenager in this. 
> 
> Please drink responsibly and practice safe sex.
> 
> you can find me on tumblr at [ glaswitch ](https://glaswitch.tumblr.com)


End file.
